All that jazz
by Madame-de-Sade
Summary: Something about America and fem!Austria and jazz of course.


Something about America and fem!Austria, crack pairing is crack, but I start falling for them.

Cole is Cole Porter of course. And Glenn is Glenn Miller.

* * *

><p><strong>All that jazz.<strong>

She went for a walk to hear anything except her own thoughts and that melody. Anything. Newsboys shouting, shuffling steps, even unbearable sound of cars on the street. Birds singing, laughter and cries of the children in Burggarten.

_You've got that thing, you've got that thing,_

_That thing that makes birds forget to sing..._

Thank God, she is in Vienna not in New York. She didn't have to listen that thing which America called music.

Jazz, if you think about it, must be a unique achievement in culture – never before has happened that Austria could not stand any kind of music.

Vulgar text, miserably poor melody. Simplistic rhythm that reminiscent of some child played.

Childishness. Yes it is a good word. Chil – dish – ness. Chil – dish – ness.

_You've got that thing, you've got that ..._

Enough. Thank God, she is in Vienna, not in New York.

"I will be shocked to death" She said to herself when she strolled through Burggarten. A second later she realized whose words she just repeated.

Sophie didn't care about rhythm, melody or text. The worst, the worst was that the Americas' songs, that they hummed themselves.

_Yes, you've got that thing, that certain thing!_

**o**

If we asked Austria to characterize New York in one word, she would be hesitated between chaos and noise. Noise of the crowded streets and markets, the ongoing chaos of wheels and in this melting pot of nationalities were bright women and dirty men, all trapped in the same smog.

Fortunately, Sophie was in New York only for one day.

**o**

They met by a chance, on the street. At first she heard some whistle and from the nearest gate Alfred run in a flowing glory, binding his tie and humming one of his vulgar negro songs.

"Oh, are you here?" America was happily surprised. "It is good to see you."

"I am here only for one day." Austria replied evasively. "I don't want to disturb you…so…"

"Listen! Now I am a little in hurry, but come to me in the evening, okay? I have something that you will like." America grinned and disappeared in the crowd, before Sophie could politely refused.

**o**

According to Austria, every piano was a work of art and Steinway was a work of genious. No matter in whose house it stood.

"Nice" She said with cool voice and played a few bars of "Für Elise".

"Sophie play some jazz for me." Alfred as if nothing leaned on her arm, looked at her with his laughing eyes. "What Austria? Can't you play? You are after all musical person."

"I am afraid that I don't like this kind of music." Sophie replied stiffly. She didn't know that Alfred is really difficult to discourage.

"But, it is really good! Cole thought me some time ago, just listen_…... You've got that thing, you've got that thing ..._

Oh yes, Austria listened, listened, and stared with indignation.

It was not only about the song, it was about how America played. His hand did not play, they jumped across the keyboard. Anyway, the whole America was twitching, swaying slightly to the beat and he laughed! He sang of course, but his voice vibrated from suppressed laughter.

_You've got that charm, that subtle charm_

_That makes young farmers desert the farm_

_'Cause you've got that thing, that certain thing_

So, he just laughed! Laughed at Steinway! If Germany had started behaving like this…

But America was not Germany, Austria could not chide him and corrected his wrong tied tie.

"Enough!" She cut sharply. "Enough, I don't feel convince."

America broke off in a half of the beat, he raised his eyes to Sophie. She could see a typical for young blend of superiority and ridicule.

"You know, I wanted to muster Cole and a couple of friends and go to dance somewhere." He said "But you would be shocked to death."

She would be shocked to death? Rather she would go crazy.

**o**

In fact, Vienna was not calm city. Nowhere was. The year 1938 seemed to go down in the history as the year of constant anxiety.

The march, windows were trembling from the columns of military boots, left, right, left, right. Attention! Cars, more cars on the streets, the roar of engines drown out almost random martial patter of feet. Round – up! And then, just a few steps to the west, the air was crosses by the whistle of falling bombs.

"War is a matter of months, I tell you." Voice of Gilbert also had something from the march, it sounded like gravel grinding under heavy boots. And the rhythm of Wagner. "So, do you approve it?"

"In fact yes." She purred without conviction. It is truth that you can't say that Hitler had no music taste. Wagner. Yes, Wagner is great.

But war, rapid or not, is very noisy. And ears bleed often.

**o**

Germany wrote on the typewriter like he played the piano long time ago. Thud, thud, thud. He was very focused. Tap, tap, tap. Equal pace. Tap, tap, tap. There was no special devotion.

"Do you remember how to play Beethoven?"

When Germany lifted his eyes, they were blue, but without light, they were serious and dull.

"This is not time for music." And he wrote. Tap, tap, tap.

Well of course. Austria turned to the window, she tried to tap the rhythm on the parapet. Not so long ago she was able to play "Für Elise" even in her sleep. _One-two-three, you've got-that-..._

Indeed, this was not time for music.

**o**

Chaos, noise, crucible, and now in addition neon fireworks. Indeed, New York was crazy and nothing but crazy. Even not scary, but crazy.

_You've got what Adam craved when he_

_With love for Eve was tortured_

_She only had an apple tree_

_But you, you've got an orchard._

America smiled and lifted his hat. He run with every step in different colour. Black and green, black and blue, black and red. Crazy as a whole city. And Sophie could smell a bit of ladies perfume, a bit of his own cologne, a little cigars, and whisky.

"I understand you got my telegram?" Austria ensured.

"Well, of course, am I late? Sorry, I was talking with Glenn before his show…"

"You drank?"

"Only one shot." America waved his hand and flashing his teeth in a smile. "Never mind, so are you convinced to jazz?"

"No, I just want to know what is it exactly ."

"Oh, you want to know for what you complain about? It can be."

Sophie had never revealed the true motives of her actions, even to her housebound or family. She didn't feel like she should explain herself to Alfred, because the truth was that she just wanted to play that melody to the end, maybe when they do that the melody went away from her head.

**o**

When they crossed the next alley, 5th, 10th, 50th, Sophie looked at Alfred. Something was not right, she felt wrong, but why?

And, suddenly she noticed. They didn't go in the leg.

Austria had already accustomed to the march and she tried go with the same rhythm with America. But she realized that it was impossible. Alfred didn't go in one rhythm, his steps are longer all shorter, in addition he rocked his hips like cowboy.

"Wait! For god's sake, act like an adult!"

**o**

"Okay" Alfred said throwing his hat and jacket to the corner. Again he had his tie wrong tied. "We determined that you are shocked by jazz a dancing, but Jack Daniel's is acceptable?"

"No."

"Austria don't be Germany."

"I am not here to get drunk!"

"It is a warm up Austria and you are with me so we do like I do." America put on the table the two glasses of whiskey. "You will not die from it."

"I said no, In how many languages should I repeat?"

"Ow, go to hell." Alfred drank his liquor and sat down in front of the piano. Beautiful. Not only he wore casual clothes he was also drank! "Now, what do you want to learn? _You've got that thing? _Sit down beside me here you have notes."

"Austria sat next to him, reached for the notes and play a few bars_. You've got that thing, you've got that thing ... _Fingers jumped across the keyboard. America gave an encouraging look to Sophie.

"It sounds better when we play it for four hands."

_You've got that thing, you've got that thing,_

_That thing that makes birds forget to sing _

_Yes, you've got that thing, that certain thing!_

When did I last play for four hands? Sophie wondered. When Germany was a child? Yes, it was long time ago.

America jabbed her with his elbow familiarly.

"Hey, Soph, we are not in church. You can relax!"

The melody was not complicated, there were not great difficulties. She fall into the rhythm, fingers touched keyboard in perfect harmony, they passed to the second pair of hands.

America was humming and laughing, like always he was moving to the rhythm.

_You've got that charm, that subtle charm_

_That makes young farmers desert the farm_

_'Cause you've got that thing, that certain thing._

Two voices.

Just like that. Two touching shoulders. And suddenly Austria understood what problem was with America.

"Austria, why are you laughing?"

America was like jazz.

He was humming in your head all the time and you couldn't stop it.


End file.
